I Hate When She’s Right
I’m annoyed at my mother.
Last night I was excitedly starting to tell her about this book I’m reading about gardening and what I was planning to do when Spring comes and she, being who she is, pooped on my party. She told me not to get too excited about it and not to go all out and invest too much in it and start too big. She told me I should start with a small garden and go from there because I didn’t want to overwhelm myself and take on more than I could physically handle.
*hrmph*
The sad part is that for once she’s actually not being critical or saying I’m an underachiever or something. I really think she was talking about my illness like she finally gets it. She didn’t want me to set myself up with grand ideas that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with on my own and then I’d beat myself up about.
I hate it when she’s right.
So I need to think this out at a small scale level.
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